


Everything You Can Take From Me

by CaptainoftheUSSTardis



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Ben Solo is a Mess, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Hunger Games AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25249024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainoftheUSSTardis/pseuds/CaptainoftheUSSTardis
Summary: (Hunger Games AU) Rey, abandoned as an infant and raised by Luke Skywalker, now lives in his Victors’ Village home in District 6 with her best friend Rose. With Luke’s income halted and home fallen into disrepair because of his mysterious disappearance five years earlier, they have so far managed to continue relatively comfortably. But Rey’s last eligible reaping changes everything – and she finds herself on the way to the Capitol.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Thank you for tuning into this new story of mine, I'm very excited to share it with you all! I've wanted to a Hunger Games crossover for a whole now, and I finally figured out how to work in the Star Wars characters into Panem. I hope you all enjoy this story, and please let me know what you think by leaving a comment, kudos, and/or bookmarking if you feel inclined to do so!
> 
> I hope you guys are staying safe, washing your hands, wearing masks, and social distancing.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Please note: Leia is referred to as "Leia Skywalker" as opposed to "Leia Organa" in this story - she and Luke were not separated at birth.

_From the_ Treaty of Treason _:_

_In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of twelve and eighteen at a public "reaping". These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol. And then transferred to a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as "The Hunger Games."_

* * *

The train was late.

Rey would have thought that after nearly twenty of these Victory Tours, Mayor Skywalker would elect to have the speeches done inside a building somewhere, instead of having the people of District 6 risk the chance of hypothermia waiting in the town's square for the person that had just murdered their children six months ago. Granted – with a total population of almost thirty thousand and seven thousand alone in the main town, there was no possibility of holding the speeches indoors. Still, simply imagining it was a distraction from the bitter cold that was already turning her thinly gloved fingers blue. She gazed up at the concrete stage in front of the massive Justice Building. Even Mayor Skywalker – who always managed to maintain a sense of decorum no matter the situation – was starting to look annoyed. Her husband beside her looked outright murderous, and their son was nowhere to be seen. That was typical. His parents were probably worried he'd fly into a fit of rage and attempt to murder the victor – that sort of behaviour wasn't out of the question. Not for Ben Solo.

This year, it was probably for the best. The victor, Augustus Braun of District 1, had been personally responsible for the deaths of the District 6 tributes – _his_ tributes. Even though it was technically required for him to be present at all Games-related functions, Rey was sure Head Peacekeeper Hux would let this one incident slide – if only to protect his otherwise spotless reputation. After all, how could he get transferred to a more prestigious district if he couldn't even control the residents in this one?

Rey rubbed her hands together in a feeble attempt to warm them, but all it did was irritate her skin from the scratchy wool of the gloves. Instead, she opted to tuck her hands under her arms, which again brought her only meager relief but at least it wouldn't result in bloody scratches. For what felt like the millionth time, she gazed backward from her spot in the square to Rose, who was on a raised scaffold dais. The face of her older sister was displayed on the massive screen behind her – a motioning picture of her smiling softly and shifting her weight from side to side. It was like she was almost there. _Almost_. Rose was shaking, and if it were any warmer she would probably be crying. But the current frigid air had likely frozen any tears onto her skin. The other terrible thing was that she didn't have anyone else on that dais to warm or comfort her, not like the boy tribute's dais which must have had at least seven family members standing atop all huddled together. Rose was Paige's only family, and though Rey would have gladly volunteered to be there with her, she doubted that sort of thing was allowed.

Some motion on the stage caught her attention, but it was only Mayor Skywalker getting up from her designated seat to talk to Head Peacekeeper Hux. After a bit of inaudible back and forth, she motioned broadly at the rest of them huddled in the square. It was in moments like these when Rey understood President Snow's logic in choosing a Games victor as mayor of a District. Leia Skywalker was a natural leader, respected, and perhaps the only person in the whole of District 6 that could quell any sort of unrest from the lot of them. Hux no doubt knew that and seemed to calmly – if not firmly – get Mayor Skywalker back to her seat.

The two screens on either side of the Justice Building flashed to life with the Capitol emblem, and finally the sound of a train whistle screeched as it neared the station.

At that point, time seemed to pass a lot quicker for Rey, as a convoy of black vehicles made its way towards the steps of the building. She could almost forget about the blasted cold for a moment. But she gazed back up at Rose again out of habit, and the girl looked weak in the knees. The very sight of the boy who had murdered one's sister would send anyone into a fit of tears or rage, but Rose was strong. She wasn't looking ahead at the stage, but instead was clutching the two gold medallions around her neck. One had been her sister's – her token she had brought into the arena, and the other was her own.

A Peacekeeper opened the door of one of the cars, and Augustus Braun stepped out, all smiles and waves. The Capitol might have dubbed him "Panem's favourite son", and there were a few scattered applause in the square, but it was clear he had no love from District 6.

He took a seat beside the mayor, who got up and approached the microphone. Her speech was the same every year, and was almost unchanged from the speech she gave on reaping days save for the added part congratulating the victor, and bringing honour to his district. When her speech ended, she motioned for Augustus to rise from his seat.

He made his way up to the microphone quickly, and his hulking figure seemed to tower over both the mayor and her husband. If it was possible, he might have actually gotten bigger since his time in the arena. He tousled his bright blond hair and began his speech. At least there were no notecards, as some of the more unstable victors had to use – less likely of fumbling his way through the speech. Then again, he was a Career tribute, a volunteer. He probably had his victory speech memorized before he stepped foot in the arena.

The speech consisted of the same Capitol-approved drabble about how Paige and the male tribute – Snap was his name – had been worthy opponents and brought honour to their district even though it didn't seem like Augustus meant a word of it, and ended with more of the same " _Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever,"_ nonsense that was tacked on to the end of all victory speeches. He shook the Mayor's hand, and then the Head Peacekeeper's, and finally the crowds were released for the remainder of the day.

Rey didn't waste any time, and clutched her shoulder bag nearer to her body and rushed through the crowds towards the northern end of the district, where a sprawling forest lay just before the lake. The forest was not technically beyond the district's borders because of the need for access to the lake that resided beyond but hunting and poaching was still illegal. Even so much as picking the berries could result in summary execution. That didn't stop Rey, since wild turkeys provided a much better meal than anything her meager wages could supply at the market. She had already used the last of her week's earnings to purchase a fresh loaf of bread that morning along with some of those chocolate cupcakes from the bakery to make Rose feel better, and now she just needed protein to go with their potatoes and corn that had frankly seen better days.

Once she had safely slipped into the woods, Rey pulled down her bag and assembled her quarterstaff. It was a fine piece of machinery, made from the scrapped parts of the high-speed trains she worked on at the rail yards, along with whatever Rose could find as well. She took the protective cap off the top of the staff, so that it revealed a clean spear head. Slinging the dirty and oil-stained bag over her shoulder, she made her way further into the woods, near the stream that connected to the lake. That was wear turkeys or other types of fowl might be. A light dusting of snow covered the forest floor, making it easier to spot and follow animal tracks.

The late afternoon sun was just starting to peak out from underneath dark grey clouds when Rey finally spotted a pair of large turkeys. With silent steps, she aimed the spear-end of her quarterstaff towards the pair. With the soft press of a release button, the silver spear shot through the air and found its target in the bird's neck. Before the second could get away, a second spear head replaced the previous and Rey shifted her aim and pressed the release button. The second bird stopped moving not a metre from the first. Between her, Rose, and Finn, at least there would be plenty to go around.

The sound of a snapping twig made her heart stop, and she gazed up at her surroundings.

Nothing but trees and snow.

Suddenly anxious to leave, Rey trotted over to the pair of turkeys and removed the spears from their necks, wiped them off with a blood-stained cloth, and put them back in her bag. Next, she removed a bundle of twine and tied both turkeys together and slung them over her shoulder. She would need to conceal them in plastic so as to not get caught by the Peacekeepers – or other District 6 citizens who were eager for some extra supplies without resorting to taking out tesserae, but that could wait until she was closer to town.

That was when Rey heard the sound of another twig snapping, and she whipped around at lightning speed to make sure no one was following her. But no one was there.

The sound of more steps followed, and Rey's gaze shot around the forest wildly until it settled on a dark figure closer towards the lake. Against her better judgement, she approached the figure, and stopped still in her tracks when she discovered its identity.

Ben Solo.

Rey ducked behind one of the larger tree trunks and kept her breathing as still as possible. The sounds of screaming and shouting filled her head – of the nights she could hear him go into one of his rages across the street. They had seemed to fill the entirety of Victors' Village, and even though they had managed to subside in recent years, Rey didn't want to take the chance of potentially triggering one. Still, she couldn't blame him one way or the other – becoming a Victor at the age of thirteen after a particularly brutal Games would take its toll on anybody. Rey herself had only been an infant of two at the time, and still in the custody of Luke Skywalker, but she hadn't needed him to tell her Ben had become a particularly troubled young man.

The sound of steps stopped, and Rey risked a peak from behind the tree, only to find Ben closer than he was before, perhaps only a few metres, and staring directly at her.

She froze, unable to speak. His grey eyes pierced into hers, like he knew everything about her from one look.

The silence stretched out between them, tense and thick, until Rey found it in herself to move her mouth. But Ben wasn't speaking either, only staring at her with a pointed gaze and a tightly closed mouth. _At least he was blinking, it made the whole thing less terrifying,_ she couldn't help but think.

"I won't tell the Peacekeepers, if that's what you're worried about," Ben said suddenly.

His voice shocked Rey, it wasn't rough or grating as his screams might have otherwise indicated. His voice was soft, perhaps even gentle.

Rey tried to find the words to speak, but nothing but silence passed her throat. Instead, she simply nodded and took off towards town, the turkeys and her bag in one hand and her quarterstaff in the other.

* * *

Rey's home – or set of rooms, rather – was at least warm when she arrived. The harsh winters of the district had the tricky habit of freezing up the generators, and even though the fireplace and the great room it belonged to was one of the only rooms of Luke's Victors' Village home that was still suitable to live in, the fireplace alone couldn't reach the kitchen, hall, or bathroom.

Since Luke's disappearance, the Capitol had allowed the home to fall into a great state of disrepair – it clearly didn't matter that Rey still technically lived in the home. Their victor was gone, and with him any notion that regular maintenance had to be done. A rather harsh winter storm two years ago had resulted in the roof completely collapsing into the second floor on the eastern side of the house, rendering that entire section unstable. Now, five years after Luke's disappearance, she and Rose – who had moved in after her sister had died – were confined to the great room, the kitchen, a bathroom, and a small study.

Rey's stomach growled as she entered the kitchen and set the pair of turkeys down on the large wooden island. Rose was already back from the square, preparing their potatoes and corn.

"I uh…" Rose started, not looking up from the pot, "I wanted to get started in case you couldn't get anything."

"Well, I couldn't disappoint you," Rey replied, trying to smile. "Not today, anyway."

"The cupcakes helped," Rose said, obviously sniffling back tears.

"You don't have to do that," Rey said, shucking off her bag and approaching her. "You don't have to pretend to be alright around me."

"I thought it would be easier…" Rose mumbled, turning towards Rey. Her eyes were red and swollen, her dark hair coming undone from its two buns by her ears. "The first weeks after the Games were hard, but I thought it would get easier. Seeing her face on that screen… I honestly don't know how I made it through the speeches without completely breaking down."

Rey hugged the younger girl, pulling her in close. "I know," she soothed. "But it's done now. You don't have to worry about Augustus Braun or anything." She knew nothing she said would truly mend her. Paige had been Rose's only supporter, and when she died Rose had been forced to move out of their apartment because she no longer had enough without her sister for rent. That was when Rey had offered her a place in her home. It wasn't much, but at least Rose wouldn't end up on the streets. Those first days after the Games had been hard – Rose barely had the strength to rise for work in the morning, but slowly she got back to her old ways, and even started doing small repair jobs on the side. It wasn't enough to pay for her own place, but it at least managed to put food on the table.

"Come," Rey said after a long silence, "help me prepared these turkeys so we're not having them for breakfast."

The turkeys were skinned and in the oven, seasoned with herbs from their garden by the time Finn finally arrived – not in his uniform, but in a plain black shirt, black cargo pants, and a heavy overcoat. His expression seemed more dour than usual, but he brightened immediately at the smell of their cooking.

"Tough day?" Rey asked, setting the small circular table with Luke's Capitol-issued china and silverware.

"Victory Tour days are always tough, but Hux had us working from dawn until dusk," he replied, shaking off his coat and sinking down into his usual seat at the table. "I swear, the man was born ram-rod straight. He had inspections conducted three times before the victor even arrived. He had us arrest people stealing cans and glass out of the trash."

"Well, lucky for you there were no Peacekeepers scouring the forest," Rey smiled. "I managed to catch _two_ turkeys."

Finn's eyes lit up.

"For real?" he asked, and then inhaled deeply. "That's what smells so good."

"Should be done any minute now," Rose said, peaking into the oven.

Finn eyed her cautiously, and then shifted his gaze to Rey, leaning in close to her. "How is she?" he asked quietly.

"As well as to be expected," Rey replied. "It was tough for her at the speeches, but she seems to be holding up alright."

Finn nodded, and didn't bring the subject up again.

Rose had probably heard the phrase "Are you alright" more than anything else since the reaping last year – and she didn't need to hear it anymore. She had her medallion as a way of remembering her sister, and the act of simply holding it seemed to get her through the day.

"This is the best meal I've had in weeks," Finn said once dinner was well and truly underway. "You should see the stuff they serve at the Peacekeeper barracks."

"For us, too," Rey replied, digging into her turkey. "More and more Peacekeepers are crawling around the forest that it's becoming hard to go and hunt. And none of them dare buy anything from us because of Hux."

"They won't even let me repair their radios for them," Rose added softly.

"Hux is just trying to look good for the higher ups in the Capitol," Finn sighed. "Everyone knows he's gunning to be Head Peacekeeper in Two, perhaps even captain of Snow's personal guard."

"I say let him," Rose said, finally looking up from her plate. Despite her grief, she'd already gone back for seconds. "At least then he would be out of our hair and hopefully we could get someone less strict."

"Maybe _you_ ," Rey eyed Finn playfully, taking a sip of water from her chipped glass.

Finn let out a loud scoff at the prospect. "Definitely _not_. You know I want to get out the first chance I get."

"And leave us behind?"

"Yeah, you'd be the best thing to happen to this district," Rose said.

"No, that would be Mayor Skywalker," Finn said. "At least _she_ can stand up to Hux. Back in Two Mayor Prestor was as complacent to the Peacekeepers as a pet dog."

Rey swallowed, remembering her encounter in the forest. "Speaking of Mayor Skywalker," she began, taking tentative bites of her potatoes, "I saw her son in the woods when I was hunting."

The sound of the silverware clattering against plates rung in her ears like a scream.

"You _what_?" Finn asked, eyes wide and mouth agape. Rose shared an equally horrified expression.

"I don't know what he was doing… just walking, I guess. But we locked eyes for a long while, not saying anything. He obviously saw the turkeys in my hands, I thought he was going to rat me out to Hux. But he said he wouldn't."

"And what did you say?" Rose asked.

"Me? I didn't say anything. I ran out of there as fast as I could," Rey replied.

"He probably was there having his bi-yearly meltdown," Finn said almost light-heartedly. "Probably would have killed the victor had he been to the speeches."

Rey nodded. "I thought so."

"I didn't," Rose said, almost a whisper as she looked down at her plate again. "I thought I would want to tear Augustus Braun limb from limb, but when he waved at the crowd, I didn't feel anger towards him. I was angry at the Capitol for letting it happen."

"As you should be," Rey said, reaching across the table to hold her friend's hand. "Don't feel bad about your feelings, they are well-placed."

Rose smiled at her, a warm, genuine smile. Finn reached across the table and held her hand as well. "Those Capitol bastards took Paige Tico, but they won't take Rose Tico as well."

Rey smiled, fully appreciating the company of her friends. The months after Luke first disappeared, it had been so hard on her own as a girl of thirteen. The reaping days had been the worst – being alone amongst the other girls terrified of her name being on that slip of paper in Stacia Brew's hand. But after eating everything that was left in Luke's cupboards, she had started to venture into the woods in search of food. But it wasn't until she had started working at the rail yards – and met Rose, that she no longer felt like she was alone. Her friendship with Finn had started off as an accident, but he was never going to get anywhere selling stolen weapons in the back alleys of the district. Rey had brought him to the Station – their underground black market – where they had started a tenuous business partnership that had blossomed into a true friendship. She hadn't even discovered he was a Peacekeeper until a few months in.

It was at times like these when Rey could feel Luke's missing presence, but she was with her friends – her family. And that was all she needed.

"Now, who wants cupcakes?"


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! 
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments! I hope you all are continuing to stay safe, washing your hands, social distancing, and wearing masks. Thanks again for the comments and kudos.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was the heat that made her work practically unbearable.

The rail yards of District 6 were all outside and exposed to the elements – which now so happened to be the burning sun – while the offices were in a small building with the prized comfort of air conditioning.

Rey was covered with grease and sweat, but at least the sun was beginning to deepen further into the horizon – signaling the end of the workday. Just before the whistle blew, she shoved the last few sellable parts from the train she was repairing into her bag, careful not to draw attention from the Peacekeepers patrolling the grounds. They were already setting up for the reaping in the town square, so all of the Peacekeepers were on edge and eager to whip out their batons at any perceived wrongdoings. As the rest of the workers filed out towards town, Rey joined the line taking care to not clutch her bag too closely to her body – an obvious sign she had something to hide. She'd learned that lesson long ago when a Peacekeeper had grabbed her bag and emptied its contents onto the ground for all to see. Luckily, nothing of value had been inside at the time, but it nevertheless had taught her to leave her bag slung loosely over her shoulder instead clutched in front of her.

As she passed the district's main square, Rey couldn't help but gaze up at the Justice Building where bright and shiny red-and-gold banners bearing Panem's emblem draped down its side. The Capitol sent out replacements for every reaping and Victory Tour so that no matter the rugged condition of the district, the banners always looked new and pristine. The practice was particularly jarring in the poorer districts like Eleven and Twelve. Especially Twelve – which judging by the televised reapings seemed to be covered in a constant layer of coal dust. But not the Capitol banners. Those had to be pure – a reminder of their vast wealth and resources and more importantly: their power over the districts.

The podium and seats were already set up for the next day, and the two wooden pedestals meant for the reaping bowls stood out among them.

A sinking feeling welled into the pit of her stomach, and Rey attempted to swallow it away. It didn't work. Memories of last year's reaping flooded her mind – standing beside Paige when her name was called, hearing Rose's screams and watching her cling to her older sister as she was ushered toward the stage by four Peacekeepers, holding Rose tight as they took her sister away. Everything after that had been a blur, and she could barely remember anything that happened during the Games. No doubt the Capitol commentators would drudge up those memories by replaying the so-called best moments of the 67th Games.

Rey knew if she stood in the square any longer she would go mad, and she needed focus to sell the parts she collected. People at the Station loved to negotiate, and you had to be on your toes in order to not get ripped off or tricked by them. Still, as she moved further and further away from the Justice Building, the feeling of dread in her stomach did not go away. It was her last eligible reaping, and in the early years of Luke's disappearance she had resorted to taking more tesserae than was probably good for her, and again when Rose had moved in so the younger girl didn't have to. The odds were not particularly in her favour.

Across town was where the massive rail station lay – abandoned and dilapidated since its bombing by the Capitol during the Dark Days. It was not much to look at from the outside, which helped to mitigate suspicions from the Peacekeepers, but underneath the earth was a sprawling black market, filled with hawkers and sellers of all sorts of contraband: from berries picked in the woods to stolen Peacekeeper weapons. Rey and Finn had their own tiny stall selling old train parts that could be used to repair machinery or fashion into tools while Finn tried to sell disused weapons and armour. Of course, if they were found out they would be hanged for treason – inciting a rebellion was the official crime, Rey believed – but it at least kept her from taking any more tesserae for her or Rose and it supplied Finn's funds to abandon the Peacekeepers.

Access to the Station was limited to a hidden stairwell behind a piece of fallen debris. Not well suited in the case of having to escape quickly, but it at least kept it secret. Rey assumed the other districts had some form of a black market, but news from them was practically non-existent that one would think they were alone in Panem save for the televised reapings. And even then they only offered a glimpse into the lives of the people elsewhere.

The heat at the rail yards had almost been unbearable, but it was even worse down in the Station. Air conditioning was a rarity in the district, but if there was one place that needed it, it was here. In the winters it wasn't as bad because the crush of bodies warmed the large, dark space, but the in the summers most couldn't stand to be inside for more than half an hour. Rey remembered discovering the body of an older man a few years ago, the one who had sold oil siphoned from the tanks of the trains and hovercraft, likely collapsed from the heat and exhaustion. He remained there for a few days before a few of the other sellers buried his body somewhere else.

As Rey entered the Station once more, the smell of sweat and metal threatened to overwhelm her, but she pushed through until she reached her stall. Finn wasn't there predictably – Hux would probably be sending them on extra long patrols because of the reaping. Inevitably there was always someone who tried to make a fuss before or on reaping days. As if they could do anything to stop them from occurring.

She started to unpack the pieces she had collected at the yards that day and displayed them on the small table. It wasn't much – a few pieces of an engine, a cooling fan, and some pipes. They might bring her a few Capitol dollars at best and nothing at worst. Sometimes there were those coming to the Station looking for something to repair their oven or plumbing, and they could reliably be counted on to buy, but Rey wasn't the only one who sold stolen parts and those who had higher positions than her had access to more of the high-tech stuff that could sell for more.

It was a delicate process, and Rey knew which parts to take which to leave at the yards with the inspectors. Take too much and they'd know you were stealing but take one or two at a time and suspicion was greatly lessened. She's seen too many people learn that lesson the hard way – they would get caught stealing by the Peacekeepers, beaten at their stations and then not show up for work the next day. Their bodies would eventually make their way to the gallows outside the yards – a warning against stealing. It obviously didn't work, because Rey still recognized a few of her colleagues down in the Station. Hux steered a tight ship, but it was no match for people's will to feed themselves and their families.

That included Rey, but everyone had their limit, especially in the heat. Nearly twenty minutes had passed since she arrived, and there had only been a few people who had bothered to look at her wares. Selling close to reaping days was tough, everyone was paranoid about the increased presence of the Peacekeepers so bargaining tended to be short because another minute you were there was another minute you might get caught.

As another five minutes passed without a single customer, Rey groaned inwardly. She'd promised Rose that she'd only stay for half an hour and then come home, but they needed the money. It was too late to go hunting, especially with all the Peacekeepers around, and if she sold some of the parts she'd be able to purchase a loaf of bread and perhaps a small chicken. That would at least get them through reaping day. Attending the reaping on an empty stomach made everything worse, and after her second in which she had been heaving up her empty stomach all the way to the main square, she swore to herself she wasn't going to let that happen again. She couldn't let that happen to Rose, either. At least this was Rey's last – Rose was sixteen and still had two more after this.

"Sir! Do you need pipes for your plumbing?" She called out to a passing man with clothes so ragged it was possible he didn't have plumbing to begin with.

She was pushing forty minutes when a young woman approached her stall. She looked about Rose's age, with light blond hair and soft features.

"What can I do for you?" Rey asked.

The girl picked the pieces of the engine and cooling fan. "These would be good…" she muttered, trailing off.

"Could help you repair a decent air conditioner," Rey offered, praying she would buy them.

"Yes, just what I was thinking. They make the Justice Building look so good on the outside, but the inside is just as run down as anything," the girl said.

"You work for the Mayor's Office?" They usually had decent salaries – well, decent compared to anything she or Rose earned at the yards. Why would a staffer need to come to the Station and risk her position?

The girl simply nodded. "Been working in this tiny office with no air conditioning – only the Mayor's office and the Head Peacekeeper's office have that. Figured I could build one."

"Well, these should definitely help," Rey said. "You can have them for ten Capitol dollars."

The girl looked dismayed. "All I have is seven."

Seven. That would get her a loaf of bread, at least, a bundle of carrots, and maybe not a chicken but a smaller bird like a pheasant. Maybe. Rey looked around at the other customers in the Station. They were thinning out; it must be getting late.

Trying to smile, Rey nodded at the girl and gave her the parts. She placed the money in her hand, and Rey immediately stashed it in her pants pocket.

"Thanks," the girl said.

"I can try and get you some more parts," Rey said. "Maybe something to help air flow."

"That would be great," she replied, shoving the pieces into her cloth bag. "The name's Connix, by the way, if you have trouble finding me."

Rey was worried Connix would wait for her name in return, but thankfully she rushed through the Station back to the exit. No one really gave out their names, unless you knew them personally. It would be too easy for the Peacekeepers to discover your identity should someone want to expose this whole operation.

Rey touched the outside of her pocket, as if her money might have disappeared. But it was still there. Seven Capitol dollars. It's wasn't much, but it was something.

She packed up what she couldn't sell to save for another day, and left the oppressive heat of the Station into the fresh air.

A figure through the cracks of the debris made her stop in her tracks. When she got a hold of herself, she rushed behind the debris that covered the entrance to the Station and prayed she hadn't been seen. The figure had been dressed in the familiar white uniform of a Peacekeeper, with his helmet off and bright red hair shining in the dimming sun.

Head Peacekeeper Hux.

Footsteps seemed like they were coming closer, and Rey held her breath. If Hux hadn't already seen her, she was pretty safe behind the entrance. But one sound would ruin everything.

The sound of gravel crunching beneath heavy boots drew closer and closer, until they felt like they were almost on top of her.

Suddenly, her heart was out of her chest at the sound of Hux's metal baton slamming against the side of the decrepit wall of the abandoned station. Rey sunk further into the shadows. She couldn't escape down underground without alerting the Head Peacekeeper, so all she could do was make herself as small as possible.

The baton made contact with the wall again, some seven feet ahead of her, but she didn't dare peak around the debris currently concealing her position. If he didn't know she was there, he probably thought a pack of rats had scurried over here. Hopefully that's all it was.

Hux's boots continued on their route towards her, and Rey scrambled to think of an excuse as to why she would be hiding in a pile of debris in order to guard the secret of the black market down below.

"Sir! Sir!" A voice in the distance called, which drew Hux's attention away from her. "There's commotion in the square, someone tried to break into the Justice Building."

" _Ruffians_ ," she heard Hux mutter and take off towards the square, away from her.

Taking a few deep breaths, she realized her hands and knees were shaking. Tentatively, she rose from her position and ran toward the market as fast as her legs would take her.

* * *

Rey had been right – those seven Capitol dollars had bought her a loaf of bread, a bundle of dirt-covered stubby little carrots, and a pheasant that looked like it had been on a hunger strike before it had been slaughtered.

But it would have to do.

District 6 could make the Capitol's high-speed trains, their railroads, their damned hovercraft, and still get shafted when it came to receiving a share of the food supply. They didn't produce food itself like Ten and Eleven, whose citizens looked generally well-fed (from what she could gather from the broadcasted reaping ceremonies), and they hadn't been very Capitol-friendly during the war like One and Two. So where did that leave them? A mix of those who were well-off enough by virtue of controlling production and those who were barely making enough to survive. When the Capitol quotas were becoming too demanding, wage cuts and layoffs were commonplace, and it wasn't a secret that those at the top liked to hoard the profits of sending trains and hovercraft off for use by the Capitol. Rey's earnings had barely lasted the week – it wasn't only food she needed to get but new clothes and safety equipment when hers became useless.

Rose earned a little more because she was technically an engineer, but not much. It wasn't as if the title held any weight like it might have somewhere like District 3, which provided the Capitol's apparent wealth of technology. Paige had been a test pilot before the Games, one of the highest earners, but she still fell victim to the reaping.

The reaping that was tomorrow.

Rey's heart sunk again as she trudged through the heavy humidity and heat towards Victors' Village. Out of the twelve homes in the little neighbourhood (eleven if you didn't count Luke's with its caved-in roof, smashed windows, and rotting wood façade), five of them were filled: Mayor Skywalker, who had occupied the home since the 19th Games, and her husband Han Solo lived in the corner home furthest from town, their son Ben Solo had moved into his own home beside them at thirteen after the 52nd Games, and the two across from them were occupied by the district's only non-Skywalker-Solo victors Wylah Ulster and Drassus Minister, both of whom had been in a constant state of strung-out on morphling since their Games and barely made appearances at reapings and Victory Tours.

That evening, the street was surprisingly quiet. Usually, Ben Solo could be counted on to go on one of his scream-filled and violent tirades, but all that could be heard was the rush of the lake in and offshore, and the sound of birdsong.

If the quietness of Victors' Village had been surprising, so was what she found in the kitchen. Rose was at the stove, stirring something rather fragrant in a pot.

Rey's dread welled in her stomach. She _told_ Rose she would get food, she _told_ her.

"You got tesserae, didn't you?" Rey asked, unwilling to let her meager excuse for groceries go.

Rose looked up from the pot, a solemn expression draped across her round face. "Don't be mad, Rey. But we had eaten the last of the squirrels two days ago, and you know how fickle people are near reaping Days at the Station."

"But you put your name in again!"

Rose closed her eyes, as if pushing back tears. "My name's only in the bowl ten times. Antilles from work said his sister's name is in there thirty-two times."

Rey couldn't stop a groan from escaping her lips. "Ten times is still worse odds than nine times."

A defeated look bled into Rose's eyes. "I know. I just… I just wanted a nice meal before the reaping. To remember my sister."

Rey sighed and finally dropped the groceries onto the wooden table. She pulled Rose into a tight hug. "I know. I'm sorry for getting angry. Besides, whatever you have is bound to elevate that sorry excuse of a pheasant I purchased."

Rose laughed, and the sound was so sweet it warmed her down to her stomach. They spoke no more of tesserae or the reaping and ate their dinner as the setting sun blanketed the sky in a fiery red.

* * *

"Do you want to go over there?" Han Solo asked his wife, gazing through the kitchen window into their son's home next door. "He really shouldn't be alone the night before the reaping."

Leia, looking up from a stack of documents on the kitchen table nodded wearily in agreement. "I know, Han. But last year things got so out of hand, it might be better to let him keep to himself. It seemed to work at the Victory Tour."

"But one of these days he's going to get in trouble for it," Han argued. "How many events do you think Head Peacekeeper Hux is going to let slide before he has to be escorted everywhere he goes? Those other two across the street get a pass because they're perpetually high, but Ben isn't." He was still gazing into the kitchen of Ben's home, looking for any sign of movement. His son was a changed man, though it had taken a while after his Games for Han to truly accept that. But nevertheless, he still believed there was something unchanged about him. There had to be. Year after year he worried that unchanged part was fading, and it didn't help that his wife said to let Ben come to him at his own pace, that he could never truly understand what had happened to him in the Games, no matter how many times he rewatched them. He guessed that was true – it was always at times close to a Games event that he felt so alienated from the rest of his family. Having a wife, son, and brother-in-law who all participated in and survived the Games was enough to make him feel like an outsider who could never truly understand those around him.

There was also the fact that Leia and Ben had to go to the Capitol for the Games every year and not only deal with tributes who would most likely not survive, but schmooze up to the Capitol elite to garner sponsors. The former was the part that took its toll on his son. Having to start mentoring tributes at fourteen did not improve is already fragile mental health after the Games. There was also what happened with that Haymitch Abernathy of District 12, in which he had learned that those around victors were always in a state of danger from the Capitol, and sometimes the only coping method was to distance themselves from others.

Still, Ben shouldn't be alone. They were his parents for God's sake – they would be with him. "Leia, let's go over. I want to see him."

Leia gazed up from her papers again towards him, and then at the guilt clock hanging just beside the window. "Amilyn and Poe should be here in half an hour."

Han sighed. "It takes thirty seconds to walk over there and dinner is already in the oven." When Leia had become mayor, a tradition quickly emerged to have a big dinner the night before the reaping with Amilyn Holdo, her deputy mayor, and Poe Dameron, her aide. Leia and Poe's mother had been good friends, and when she passed away when Poe was only fifteen, they had invited him to dinner before the reaping that year to comfort him. After that, the tradition stuck. And though Han wasn't a superstitious man by any stretch of the imagination, he knew both his wife and Poe treated the tradition as a ritual. A ritual that had saved him from the reaping. Their own son, of course, hadn't been so lucky.

Ben's reaping at thirteen hadn't come down to luck or odds or anything like that. Han was sure of it. As the child of a victor and mayor, Ben's name had been in the reaping bowl no more times than was legally required – a grand total of two. But his mother was a victor, and so was his uncle. It was inevitable that the Capitol wanted to establish a victor family line out of the Skywalker-Solos. Ben's win in the arena had officially founded it and made him the youngest winner in history, which only served to worsen his mental health as he was sometimes forced to mentor tributes four years older than him.

"He could be working through his emotions, Han," Leia said with a mournful look. She missed her son, too, but she knew what it was like in the arena, Han didn't.

Still, that wasn't going to stop him. "Well, he should work them out among family. Come on let's go."

Leia finally relented, and they left the cool air of their home into the sticky humidity of Victors' Village. For a moment, Han could see Leia glance at the home that had been her brother's. That was the other thing – Luke had been particularly outspoken about the tyranny of the Capitol and President Snow in particular, and five years ago he had gone to the Games and hadn't returned. He knew Leia clung to what little hope she had that her brother was still alive somewhere, but being alive and constantly tortured by the Capitol was likely a fate worse than death. Leia knew that as well as he did.

A girl still lived in the home – Rey, her name was. Han saw her slip into the cracked front door that had nearly fallen off its hinges almost every evening. Sometimes she carried cleverly concealed meet and fowl, and sometimes the grain and oil ration that earned another slip with your name on it in the reaping bowl. He and Leia had been the ones to first tell her of Luke's disappearance, and had offered to take her in. She'd been so distraught by the news she'd refused to leave the home – thinking Luke would eventually come back someday. If her current living situation was anything to go by, she clearly still believed it.

Han's thoughts were jolted by the sound of Leia knocking on Ben's door.

"Ben… honey… are you in?" She asked with a soft firmness.

Silence followed.

Leia and Han looked at each other, wearing the same nervous expression. Leia tried knocking again, a little louder this time. "Ben, it's us. Would you like to come over for dinner?"

Again, the silence.

The nervous feeling in Han's body grew. It wasn't uncommon for victors – especially those on the younger side – to resort to self-medication to deal with their trauma and depression. For all they knew, Ben could be up to his eyes in moonshine; or morphling like those two across the street.

"I'm this close to breaking down the door," Han said. Just as the words exited his lips, the front door swung open to reveal Ben's gaunt body. The Games had certainly taken a toll on his physical health, that was for sure. He had always been naturally broad, but a diet that consisted of the bare minimum in the district and overindulgence in the Capitol had impeded muscle growth everywhere else. Not only that, but his skin was sallow, almost a pale shade of grey, his black hair had a greasy sheen to it and his cheeks were hollow and sunken.

Without registering his movements, Han pulled his son into a strong hug. It caught both Ben and Leia off guard.

"I know it's hard," Han whispered. "But come eat with us. We miss you."

A sniffle. A tremble. Han realized his son was crying.

"I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it," he whispered through tears. Leia knew it as well, but Ben wasn't talking about having dinner with them.

"You're not alone, Ben," Leia said, reaching out and clutching her son's hand. " _We_ mentor the tributes. _Together_. It's not just on you."

Ben said nothing to that, but continued to hold Han in an embrace. The heat of the day was still settled in the air, but Han didn't seem to notice it. If anything, it felt more comfortable with his son in his arms.

"I'm trying to understand what it's like for you, son," Han mumbled. "For you and your mother."

Ben pulled away suddenly. "But you don't know what it's like. You _can't_." Without another word, he walked back through the front door of his home and slammed it shut.

Han shut his eyes and sighed deeply. He never knew what to say around him, and everything turned out to be the wrong thing for some reason or another.

"It's okay, Han," Leia said, placing her hands comfortingly on his shoulders. "Let him be alone for now. This is something he needs to work through himself, without us forcing it upon him."

"But he doesn't _have_ to be alone. He _isn't_ alone," Han replied as they walked back towards their home.

"I know, Han, I know," Leia said somberly. "But he needs to do this at his own pace. You know how he was those first few Games after his own. He was terrified. How could he mentor tributes four years his senior? Or twelve-year olds, for that matter. He would get attached and when they died in the arena it would break his spirit. Luke and I could only help him so much."

Han nodded as they stepped inside the cool halls of their home. He would never admit it to his wife, but sometimes he hardly recognized his son. Perhaps he had been naïve in thinking the Games wouldn't change him that much, or that he'd get over his violent outbursts after a few years. As it turned out, Ben's violent behaviour had only really subsided within the past year, but what had replaced it was a deep depression that pulled him away from everyone. Han was serious when he said Ben was going to get in trouble for missing Games functions, and if what had happened to Haymitch Abernathy was any indication, the consequences would not be kind to him.

For the rest of the evening, Leia and Han didn't speak of their son, though through the dinner he could tell the subject hung heavy around the dinner table. Both Amilyn and Poe were choosing their words carefully, and hardly brought up the subject of the reaping or the Games. As if they weren't happening at all.

If only it were so.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers, and happy New Year! 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support, kudos, and comments! I hope you're all wearing masks, washing your hands and social distancing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The morning of the reaping, Rey woke to the sound of screams.

Out of instinct, she reached for her quarterstaff propped up against the stone mantle – looting attempts were common after Luke's disappearance had became widely known – but it was only Rose on the sofa adjacent to her's.

Rey abandoned the weapon and went over to the girl, lightly shaking her awake and pulled her into a tight hug. "It was only a dream," she whispered softly.

Rose's arms warped around her body, and Rey felt the perspiration on her forehead and her body tremble.

"I dreamt it was me," Rose said quietly, her face pressed tightly against Rey's night shirt. "They called my name at the reaping."

"It was only a dream," Rey repeated, stroking a hand lightly through her dark hair. "You're here, at home. You're safe."

They sat in silence for a long moment as the sun peaked through the windows and warmed the halls of the house that had cooled in the night air.

It was unlikely Rose's name would be reaped, especially after her sister's name had been the year before. But then again, that was the nature of the reapings – they were completely unpredictable.

_May the odds be ever in your favour._

How could they ever be?

How could the odds be in anyone's favour apart from those living in the Capitol, who were exempt from participation in the Games unless they gambled on the tributes or sponsored them from the comfort of their homes.

 _Punishment. Penance._ That's what they called it. Punishment for a war that had ended almost seventy years ago; but that was not the point. No, the point of the Hunger Games was to serve as a constant reminder of the power of the Capitol, that no one could overcome them.

It was a powerful reminder, indeed.

Rey gazed at the clock in the hall. It was crooked, coming off its hook, but Rey worried if she attempted to fix it the whole wall would come crumbling down. And then where would they be? In half of the already confined space – with the front door blocked for good measure. For the first time in a while, Rey's thoughts wandered to whether she and Rose could actually afford one of those small apartments near the yards if they put their wages together. She didn't like to think about it, because it meant leaving Luke's home. But as she gazed at the crooked clock hanging on the cracked wall, the thought still creeped into her mind. Could they? She imagined her and Rose having separate bedrooms, reliable plumbing, and proper heat in the winter. Their kitchen would be small, of course – not as nice as Luke's with its conservatory-like breakfast area and large wooden island – but it would at least have electricity. Not long after Luke's disappearance, the power to the home had been cut, so Rey had to make do with the gas stove and a wood oven. The plumbing had become shoddy at best, and non-existent at worst. Most of her teenage years had been spent between the train yards and attempting to fix the problems of the house. That was when she had started stealing parts, when she realized they could be used to fix the pipes and drains. A co-worker had caught her one afternoon, but instead of turning her in to the Peacekeepers, he had shown her the Station, and how to sell.

Yes, the thought of renting became more appealing by the moment. But as quickly as the thought came, she shoved it out of her mind.

She couldn't leave this place. It belonged to the only caretaker she had ever known, someone who had treated her with kindness and love after her birth parents had outright abandoned her. How could _she_ abandon it, knowing it without her and Rose it would only succumb to the elements and crumble into nothing? No, she owed it to Luke to take care of his home. Besides, if he ever returned, she couldn't have the house in a worse state than it already was.

The soft chiming of the clock told her it was already nine in the morning. The reaping in District 6 was supposed to be televised at ten, leaving them only an hour to eat, wash, and dress. Tradition (though it was basically considered law at this point) dictated that everyone who attended the reaping look their best, no matter their financial circumstances.

Rey had a dress she purchased for her reaping at sixteen that amazingly still fit her, while Rose had Paige's old dress that would fit her now. Rey had been worried about that, about drudging up the memories of the reaping the year before, but the entire situation reminded her of Paige. Purchasing a new dress instead of wearing Paige's old one wouldn't stop the memories more than anything else, so why spend her precious earnings to do so? While they had been having dinner the night before, Rose had said it would be like Paige was there, with her no matter what happened. That at least had put Rey's mind at ease.

After eating a small breakfast of toast and eggs, they took turns in the small washing tub in the bathroom and dressed for the reaping.

Rey's dress was white – a not particularly fashionable colour in the district, but it would at least stave off the heat. It was made with pleated muslin, so it was light and flowing, giving Rey the illusion of a curvier silhouette than what she was used to. With a wooden wide-toothed comb, she brushed back her hair into her usual three buns down the back of her head. It was the way Luke had done her hair since childhood, the best way to keep her hair back out of her face.

It was almost quarter to ten when Rose emerged from the bathroom, wearing Paige's light blue cotton dress that buttoned up at the chest. Its sleeves were cropped short just above the elbow and puffed slightly at the shoulder. Her black hair was pulled back into two buns just below her ears, their ends brushing her shoulders slightly. Her eyes were no longer red and swollen from tears, but they missed the brightness that usually illuminated them on her better days.

"You look really nice," Rey said, though she had no idea if it would help the situation. Probably not, but at least Rose smiled softly and nodded.

"You too," she whispered.

They shared a long moment of silence. They had to start making their way to the town's square, but it seemed like their legs were unable to move.

Suddenly there was a loud knock on their door, and the sound shocked them both so much they grabbed each other instinctively.

"Rey! Rose!" The familiar voice of Finn carried through the hall, and the two girls took long strides toward the door to greet him. He was dressed in his Peacekeeper's uniform, the polished white of the jacket reflecting the morning sun into her eyes. His standard issue rifle was slung over his shoulder, and she eyed it nervously. He had told her he would never use it on another person, even if he was instructed to, but Rey didn't know if he truly believed that.

"Finn, what is it?" Rey asked, more than a little annoyed to have been scared out of her skin.

"They're starting to round everyone into the square for the reaping," he explained, his deep brown eyes blinking quickly. "You guys better get going before someone comes and drags you there."

Finn tried to smile at the half-hearted joke, but Rey's heart only clenched. People always tried to skip the reaping by staying home, but the Peacekeepers would come door-to-door and drag out any stragglers. If their names weren't reaped, they would receive a public whipping instead.

"We… we were just about to leave, thanks for the warning," Rey stammered, grabbing Rose by the hand and rushing out the door.

"Another warning, Rey," Finn started as he followed them towards the square. It was only a short walk, but the rest of the inhabitants of Victors' Village were most likely already at the Justice Building, so it was empty and quiet. Finn would have to rejoin his squadron closer to the square, so this time they got alone was comforting – Peacekeepers weren't exactly encouraged to make friends with the district citizens. "Stay away from the Station. Hux is tightening security everywhere, posting Peacekeepers within a few feet of each other. I heard from some of the guys that a few higher-ups from Two are visiting today to inspect everything. It's enough to make Hux go stir-crazy."

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it," Rey replied. The Station was usually empty on reaping days anyway, unless you were truly desperate. "I saw him yesterday," she went on, looking at the road as it turned from paved asphalt to dirt beneath her marking the border of Victors' Village. "As I was leaving, I saw him creeping around. He would have caught me, too, but something else caught his attention. Do you think he might know about the Station?"

Finn shook his head. "If he did, he would have already burned that place to the ground. Besides, the man's suspicious of everything." He paused for a moment. "Including the rats."

This time, Rey let out a small laugh, and even Rose chuckled softly.

They didn't have time to savour the little happiness they had created however, because the town square was approaching quickly, and Finn gave a solemn nod of good luck before jogging over to the rest of the Peacekeepers lining the stage in front of the Justice Building. Rey almost didn't recognize him, there amongst his comrades – with his identical uniform, rifle gripped firmly in his hands and stood at attention like the rest of them. By all appearances, he was the perfect, obedient soldier.

Rey smiled. How far from the truth that was.

Once their blood had been collected, Rose squeezed her hand, and she realized it was time to separate. Just as she had that morning, Rey pulled her into a tight hug and then let her go join the other sixteen-year-olds, while she joined the older girls in the back. Through the mass of girls' heads, she could just make out Rose's buns ahead of her. Her stance was rigid, and it was then Rey realized her stance was not much different. Her neck and back were straight, not slumped over like when she worked at the yards. She was almost straining to peer over the other girls' heads to view the stage.

Mayor Skywalker was there, looking rather nervously at her son who sat beside her. While the mayor looked about as healthy as any District 6 victor could be, Ben Solo did not. Rey was almost taken aback by his gaunt and hollow face, the dark circles under his eyes, and the way his modest Capitol-styled clothing seemed slightly too big for him. But he was actually _present._ His mental health at least, had hopefully improved since the Victory Tour.

Precisely on time Mayor Skywalker approached the microphone and started the usual speech about the creation of Panem, the rebellion by the districts and their defeat, and the subsequent inception of the Hunger Games. Rey wasn't listening, and by the looks of it, no one else was either. She then listed the victors from District 6 in the sixty-eight years since the Games began.

Leia Skywalker.

Luke Skywalker.

Drassus Minister.

Ben Solo.

And Wylah Ulster.

A not completely insignificant crop of victors, though no district could truly compete with One and Two, and even Four. Still, it was a feat that the district's oldest victor was still alive – the same could not be said for so many others. Next the Capitol escort, Stacia Brew, approached the microphone and gave it an exaggerated tap to make sure it was working, sending the whine of feedback through the speakers. Rey cringed at the sound.

Apparently, this year pastel colours were in fashion in the Capitol, as Stacia's frilly dress was a mix of pastel-coloured chiffon decorated with white flowers. Her hair – her _actual_ hair, not a wig as many in the Capitol seemed to enjoy – was braided in a crown that circled her head, also dyed in various light shades of pink, blue, yellow, and purple. Stacia clashed severely with her surroundings, but at least she wasn't overly enthusiastic like some of the other Capitol escorts who seemed to relish the idea of sending children to their demise in the arena. The one from Twelve, for instance, spoke with a sort of joviality that was almost disturbing.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!" Stacia started in her haughty Capitol accent. It had only been recently when Finn had told Rey she spoke with a lilt that almost sounded Capitol, but she'd lived in Six her whole life, so it was almost undiscernible from the way anyone else in the district spoke.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour." Stacia exclaimed brightly and paused as if to wait for cheering from the crowd gathered in the square.

Predictably, no one said a word.

"First, we have a video brought to you from the Capitol." The escort turned toward the giant screen to her right, and the same video that played every year started.

It was President Snow's voice over the hyper-produced imagery of the war, explaining the need for the Games, but in only served to prolong their misery for a minute and thirty-three seconds.

Once the video ended, Stacia Brew wasted no time with niceties. "Now, ladies first!" She approached the glass reaping bowl that contained what must have been thousands of little slips of paper. Out of thousands her name was in there twenty-five times. Rose's was in there ten. Still, her palms were sweaty, and she could feel her skin moisten down the back of her dress. It wasn't a particularly hot day – not like yesterday – but being in the town square surrounded by a thousand other girls waiting a name to be drawn from the bowl made it feel hotter than it was.

Slowly and with a certain grace, Stacia Brew dipped her hand into the reaping bowl and pulled out a singular slip of paper. The entire crowd held a collective breath as she returned to the microphone and broke the stripe of black tape keeping the piece folded closed. The only thing that could be heard was the bird song from the woods.

"Our female tribute is…"

Rey gazed forward at Rose, whose head was bent down and hand was rubbing her gold medallion necklaces.

" _Rey Skywalker!_ "

The world suddenly stopped turning.

All of air rushed out of Rey's lungs with a gasp, as if she fallen from a tree onto her back.

That had to be wrong, she had to have only imagined her name exiting Stacia Brew's lips. But as reality slowly started to refocus, the other eighteen-year-olds turned towards her with solemn expressions. However, Rey would have to be a fool not to notice the relief behind their eyes.

It wasn't until the Capitol escort said her name again when everything suddenly became real.

Four Peacekeepers were approaching her. She knew she had to move, lest they grab her by the arm, but her feet couldn't budge. Eventually, she started maneuvering through the crowd of girls to the aisle that separated them from the boys, but apparently she wasn't moving fast enough as one of the Peacekeepers did in fact grab her elbow and shove her roughly towards the stage. She nearly tripped over her feet from the force of the push, but she was able to catch herself in time.

Rey heard someone call her name again, but it wasn't Stacia Brew from the stage, beckoning her forward.

It was Rose.

Rey turned sharply to find Rose pushing her way through the crowd of girls toward her, only to be stopped by a pair of Peacekeepers.

"Rey!" She shouted. " _Rey!_ "

Rey also tried to shift directions toward Rose, but the Peacekeepers made that quite impossible. "It's okay, Rose!" She said, even though it really wasn't.

Her name had just been called. Everything was the opposite of "okay".

"Rey!" Rose continued to scream as she moved further and further away. Her screams eventually stopped, but Rey didn't know what had caused it. She was so shocked she almost tripped up the stairs that led to the stage, but caught hold of herself before her hands slammed into the concrete.

"Come on up, dear," Stacia Brew said, but it sounded distant, like she wasn't really there at all. The escort hand grabbed Rey's hand and pulled her toward the stage. She was standing beside the reaping bowl, the bowl in which her name had come out. There were thousands of slips of paper in that bowl – how had her name been the one to be read? Behind her were the District victors, and even though her back was towards them, she could feel their gaze dig into her. Judging her. Panic seeped into her skin as she became aware of the cameras pointed at her, recording every microaggression and emotion she displayed out for the whole country to watch.

In the whirlwind of what had just happened, Rey had completely forgotten the reapings were broadcasted live.

"And now for the boys!" Stacia Brew exclaimed into the microphone, but again it seemed distant, like she was hearing her speak under water.

Rey was trying so hard to look for Rose in the crowd she didn't even hear the other tribute's name being called. But it must have happened because a shell-shocked-looking boy was approaching the stage, also being escorted by four Peacekeepers.

Once the boy reached the stage, Stacia said, "I give you your male and female tributes representing District Six in the sixty-eighth Hunger Games!" and more quietly told them to shake hands. Rey did as she was told, and suddenly she was whisked into the Justice Building and into a small yet comfortable-looking room as the door was locked behind her.

Rey didn't know what has happening, but all she knew was that was conclusively, utterly, alone.

* * *

Things were easier to process once she had a few moments to collect herself in the small room.

_My name is Rey Skywalker._

_I was raised by Luke Skywalker._

_He disappeared five years ago._

_My name was called in the reaping._

_I'm the District 6 female tribute for the 68_ _th_ _Hunger Games._

_Reaping._

_Tribute._

_Hunger Games._

The events of the town square were slowly coming back – clearer and more present than the blur in which they had occurred. She remembered Rose crying out for her, she remembered telling her everything was okay (why had she said that?). She remembered the boy being called, a timid-looking thing with soft features, black hair like Rose's, and grey eyes like Ben Solo's. She couldn't remember his name.

Rey finally focused on her surroundings instead, as she would drive herself mad thinking of the Hunger Games.

The room they had locked her in was sparsely decorated, only containing a ratty-looking sofa and a small desk with a lamp. There was a window on the far side of the room, and Rey wondered for a moment if she could crawl out of it and run towards the forest. She would run and run and never look back. She could hunt for herself, travel north, not have to worry about the Hunger Games or the reaping or the Capitol.

But then she thought of Rose, how she had screamed for her when her name had been called. How she had already lost her sister in the Games. She thought of Finn, how he relied on her to help sell his stolen weapons. They needed her – and she needed them.

Besides, how far was she likely to get if she crawled out the window? Ten feet? Twenty? The square was still crawling with Peacekeepers, who probably wouldn't hesitate to shoot her should she try to escape. And then what would happen? If the bullet wound didn't kill her, she'd be thrown into the arena anyway. With an injury. With the chances of winning going down to almost zero.

The sound of the door opening made Rey's heart leap from her throat, but it was only a crying Rose rushing towards her and burying her in a hug.

"How could this happen how could this happen how could this happen…" she mumbled into the front of her dress, staining it with her tears. Rey's arms wrapped around her head comfortingly, burying her fingers in her hair that had come undone from her buns, and she realized she was crying as well.

"I'm so sorry, Rose… I'm so sorry," Rey said, because she could think of nothing else.

"Just come back, Rey," Rose replied, her voice shaky with fear. "Just come back. I don't care what you do."

The reality of the situation then came into sharp relief. How was she supposed to kill twenty-three other people? _Children_. The task seemed impossible. But then she looked at Rose, whom the Capitol had already taken so much from, and knew she had to try.

Still, that didn't mean she would _win_.

"Listen, Rose," Rey started, her voice deeper and serious and steady. "If the worst should happen –"

"But –"

"If the worst should happen, don't take any more tesserae. It's not worth it. Finn can help you sell old train parts at the Station. Keep doing repair jobs for anyone who will take you." Then her voice dropped low. "If Finn escapes, go with him, don't give it a second thought, okay?"

Rose was looking down at the carpeted floor and shaking her head.

Rey grabbed her shoulders and practically shook her. "Tell me you will do these things! Tell me you'll do anything it takes to survive!"

Rose finally looked up at her, and Rey noticed something she hadn't before – a light purple bruise on her cheekbone. Probably given to her by a Peacekeeper's gun to stop her from forcing her way to the stage after her.

"Only if you do," Rose replied. She then pulled one of her gold medallion necklaces off her neck and placed it in Rey's palm. "Wear it in the arena. You're allowed to take a token from your district."

"You're sister's necklace?" Rey asked, feeling a little uneasy. Her thumb brushed the smooth metal that felt warm in her hand. It was beautiful, really. Engravings lined the shape, and the gold finish reflected the sunlight coming through the window brightly.

Rose shook her head. "My necklace. You know it's very special to me, so you better bring it back."

Rey nodded, and they shared another long hug. But not long enough as a Peacekeeper came into the room announcing Rose's visiting time was up and whisked her away.

She was only alone for a few moments before Finn burst into the room, also sweeping her into a big hug.

"You're a good hunter, Rey," he said after pulling back to grasp her shoulders like she had done to Rose. "You can fight. You can _win_. You have to."

"Turkeys are a little different than people…" Rey trailed off.

"It doesn't matter now," Finn replied. The statement shocked her, but she inwardly conceded it was true all the same. "You just need to come back home, alright?"

"You need to look out for Rose," Rey said forcefully, wanting to switch the topic of discussion from her. All this talk of doing whatever it took to survive the arena was starting to make her nauseous, and she didn't want her breakfast to come up and stain the carpet. "Help her sell, make sure she doesn't take any tesserae. If you leave, take her with you. Please, Finn, promise me you'll do that."

Finn nodded, his eyes shiny with tears. They hugged again. "They just want a good show. Make them like you."

The words seemed so foreign to Rey, but she knew he was right. The tributes who garnered the highest amount of attention and support survived the longest.

Once again, the Peacekeeper entered the room and told Finn it was time to leave. He left the room after giving her a light kiss on the forehead, and then she was alone again.

Suddenly, all the energy felt as if it had been drained from her body, and she collapsed on the sofa. She shoved her face into a small pillow.

And then she screamed.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> Thank you for your continued support, comments, and kudos. I hope you're all staying safe, washing your hands, and wearing masks.
> 
> Enjoy!

The ride to the train station only lasted a few minutes.

Stacia Brew was talking the entire time, but Rey didn't hear a word of what she said. All she could focus on was the approaching high-speed train, a train she had probably worked on, a train that would take her further and further away from her home to the Capitol where she would be forced to murder the other tributes. Cameras swarmed the station, wanting to catch a glimpse of District 6's newest tributes. Her heart raced at the prospect of her face plastered all over Capitol News, of being judged by the lot of them.

As the car pulled to a stop in front of the station, Rey steeled herself, not wanting the people with the cameras – and certainly not the _Capitol_ – to see now nervous it was. She knew what those commentators were like, always analyzing every emotion and eye twitch to estimate a tribute's odds of winning the Games. Everything about a tribute's demeanor from the moment they're chosen determines if they're more likely to win or die. If they'd go down in the opening bloodbath or make it to the final five. No one bet on the nervous ones – especially if it was obvious they'd been crying. And although some liked an underdog, no one liked a crier.

The car door was opened for her by a Peacekeeper, and Rey slipped off the upholstered seat into the heat of the sun, ignoring those pointing cameras in her face. They crowded her, shouting her name, and at first she instinctively jerked away from them and made herself appear smaller. But she at least had enough wits about her to realize that was a mistake. Instead, she pulled her arms to her side, bawling her fists, and narrowed her gaze. She pretended no one else was around her. She pretended she was just heading to work.

That illusion didn't last long, because when Rey entered the train car, the display in front of her was about as far from anything she had worked on in her life.

Crystal chandeliers lined the ceiling. Beautifully upholstered velvet furniture covered the soft carpeted floor. On every polished wood table, there were silver tiered platters of sweets covered in chocolate, lemon curd, or whipped cream, and small sandwiches containing what looked like cucumber and smoked salmon. To her left there was a bar with an entire wall filled with crystal and glass decanters containing spirits of every colour imaginable. Only then she realized that the heat and humidity had been snuffed out upon entry, replaced with the slight breeze of air conditioning. The air smelled of jasmine and mint. Refreshing. Clean. Free of sweat and dust.

She knew the Capitol was wealthy – it was obvious from the television – but this surpassed even her imagination. Is this what she had been working on and repairing all these years? All those skeletal trains in the yards had just been waiting to be filled with all the things she could never afford? Rey thought back to her work shifts at the yards, up to her elbows in grease and face glaring at a train's engine. She had never seen the actual insides of the finished compartments – the electricians and plumbers did that work. The only thing she did was tinker on the engines and the exterior hardware. Everything else had been too far out of her depth. All the same, the decadence of the Capitol had only been a few feet away. Those days seemed so far off and remote, now. Had it only been yesterday when she was complaining about the heat and working on the very trains she was now boarding?

Rey peeked past Stacia, who was now traveling further into the train car, at the boy tribute. He still looked shocked by the whole ordeal, but not necessarily by the contents of the car. His eyes had a glazed look about them, like he wasn't looking at anything in particular, unlike Rey who stood practically agape at it all. It was then she realized she actually recognized the boy. Yes, he had always walked to the school about the same time she travelled to the yards for work in the morning. He had always been smiling with a group of his friends wearing crisp clothing and carrying bookbags that weren't worn or had holes in the bottom. From one of the more well-off families, Rey assumed, who didn't need to worry about food or buy from the Station or sign up for tesserae. He looked, what, about sixteen? His name must have been in there a grand total of five times. Some had their name on dozens of slips of paper.

And yet his name had still been pulled from the reaping bowl.

_That was the nature of the reapings – they were totally unpredictable._

The food on the silver trays caught her attention again, and suddenly she felt her stomach rumble. She hadn't eaten a thing since her small breakfast nearly three hours ago.

"Better start eating now. Higher calorie intake means an increased chance of survival in the arena. It would be rather pathetic to succumb to starvation."

The voice behind Rey made her jump out of her skin. She turned toward its owner, and was met by Ben Solo, who looked bigger and less sickly up close. There were still the dark circles under his eyes and the hollow cheeks, but he was stockier and less bony than from what she saw from the reaping. She was about to open to her mouth to retort the rather thoughtless remark, but Ben Solo only walked right past her, fell down unceremoniously on one of the plush settees and shoved a pastry in his mouth.

Rey grimaced.

"I'm sorry about that," another voice said from behind her. Mayor Skywalker. Or rather, Leia Skywalker, as she was to be known as their mentor on this trip rather than their district mayor. Already, she wanted Leia over her son as her mentor. Judging by first impressions, Leia would be better if she wanted to remain mentally stable through the whole ordeal.

As soon as Leia entering the car, its door closed with a solid clang and the engines rumbled as the train picked up speed. Outside the windows, the dense buildings of District 6 soon gave way to open fields and forests. It was as if she had entered a whole different world. There was no going back now. She was trapped.

Leia had changed from her modest grey pantsuit she had worn at the reaping into a fashionable dress more of the style of the Capitol. Her grey hair was braided elegantly around her head, and her fingers and wrists were adorned with gold rings and bangles. She looked completely different, like a true Capitol-born citizen, instead of a district resident. She took a seat on a velvet armchair beside her son and placed a hand on his knee. Not threateningly, but with a motherly comfort.

"Ben's years of mentoring have taken a toll on him," she explained.

Ben didn't say anything, just shoved another pastry in his mouth.

"Rey, Dopheld, please take a seat. It's about a day's ride to the Capitol, so we should start talking strategy immediately."

_Dopheld._ That must be her counterpart's name.

Rey did as she was told and took a seat in an armchair across from her mentors. She couldn't help but feel the softness of the material underneath her fingers and revel in its luxury. Even Luke's home in Victors' Village didn't have anything like this.

Dopheld took a seat beside her, but his eyes remained glazed over the whole situation. He was most likely in shock, but by the way her mentors weren't reacting to him with concern, she guessed it was a pretty normal thing.

"Ben is right, however," Leia continued. "You two should start eating and keep eating. If you can increase your caloric intake per day, you'll be able to survive longer in the arena without food. Water remains the first priority, however. That should be the first thing you try to find in the arena."

Easier said than done, of course. The Gamemakers changed the landscape of the arena every year. It could be a dry desert, a frozen wasteland, a jungle, or perhaps a setting filled with only saltwater lakes just to be extra cruel. Rey remembered one year when there were no sources of water – it all had come from bottles in the Cornucopia or from sponsors. Nearly half the tributes had died from dehydration. Still, finding water must be standard first piece of advice from mentor to tribute.

Gingerly, Rey took a scone filled with blueberries from the tray beside her and took a tentative bite. She didn't know why she was eating so cautiously. By all accounts, she should be gorging herself on the wealth of food in the train car. What was she afraid of? The Capitol poisoning her? They were already sending her into an arena to murder or be murdered – it would be no advantage to them to kill tributes before they got a chance to entertain the Capitol.

The first bite of the scone, however, erased as of her nervousness about the food. It was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. It was still warm, as if removed fresh from the oven, fluffy, both sweet and tart from the blueberries. Just for good measure, a light layer of powdered sugar covered the top, coating her lips in the white stuff. She stopped herself from eating too quickly lest she upset her stomach with the rich food, but took another scone, this time slathering it with clotted cream.

"Rey already has an advantage," Ben Solo said to his mother, mouth filled with a third pastry. He talked as if she wasn't there. Her eyes narrowed at him. "She's a Skywalker."

She wasn't _really._ Not by birth, at least. She just had the good fortune to have been raised by Luke instead of being left to die in the woods as an infant. And besides – it wasn't as if she'd been raised by him for very long considering his five-year long disappearance. Rey opened her mouth to object to Ben's comment, but he continued without so much as glancing at her.

"You know how much the Capitol loves a victor legacy family. She'll get tons of sponsors just by virtue of her name alone." His tone made it seem like he was relieved he wouldn't have to do any hard work on her part. "Everyone will be falling over themselves just to help secure another win for the Skywalkers. They probably rigged the reaping just so her name was called. They haven't had Uncle Luke to parade around with us for years, so they need a new one to take his place."

Fire burned in her chest, making her stand up in a rage. If she had her quarterstaff, she would have hit him square on the head.

"Ben!" Leia admonished, giving her son a harsh look. "Don't say things like that." She then gave Rey a sympathetic look and gestured with her head for her to sit back down. "I'm sorry about that, Rey."

Somehow, it worked, and Rey took a seat back in the velvet chair. After a beat, Rey said "the reaping can't be rigged. It goes against the Charter of the Games."

Ben only let out a loud, sarcastic scoff.

"They _were_ rigged," a timid voice said beside her. Rey turned, and it was Dopheld, looking down at his feet and practically shaking. If it were possible, he actually looked smaller than he did when they had shaken hands in front of the Justice Building. Granted, Rey had been in a confused daze for most of the event, but she remembered the boy looking a little stocky, like he could at least be a contender. Now he looked like one of the tributes who got picked off first.

Nevertheless, Dopheld's words disturbed Rey more than she cared to admit. _Could the reapings actually be rigged?_ She had not thought of such a thing occurring, but as the thought swirled in her mind, it became more and more likely to be true.

Everyone in the train car turned to Dopheld with a serious expression, waiting for him to continue. Even Ben stopped stuffing his face for one second to listen to the boy. As if to add to his misery, Stacia Brew stepped through the car door on the other side, wearing a new dress. This one was light purple accented with rhinestones. It looked more like a ball gown than something to wear to lunch on a train, even one as beautiful as this. She took a seat beside Leia across from them, and her brow furrowed at the tense silence.

"Well, what did I miss, my young tributes?" She asked in an airy voice, oblivious to how clearly in pain Dopheld looked.

"Ever since I turned twelve," Dopheld continued, as if Stacia hadn't come in, "my dad bribed Head Peacekeeper Hux to keep my name from being called…"

"And yet here you are," Ben finished for him, his voice flat.

Leia gave him a pointed look but didn't raise her voice again.

"Also…" the boy tribute began, for the first time looking up from his feet. "Call me Mitaka. I hate the name 'Dopheld'."

Leia nodded. "That's fine, Mitaka."

After that, Mitaka returned to his position of staring down at the carpet, and long silence flooded the car. It was almost too awkward to eat. _Almost._ The scent of the smoked salmon and cream cheese overwhelmed her nose and she reached over to another silver tray to take one and eat it one bite. Hadn't the mentors said she needed to eat? That it would help her in the arena? Besides, she needed to get Rose's necklace back to her. She clutched the gold medallion around her neck and squeezed it tight. It was easy to think she would fight her hardest to get it back to Rose, to go _home_ to Rose and Finn, but would that change in the arena? The thought churned with all in the food in her stomach. She didn't even know who the other tributes _were_. Rey glanced at the small clock above the bar. It was only one thirty. The reaping for District 12 occurred at two. They hadn't even drawn their names yet.

Finn was right, she was a good hunter, and had a lot of experience killing animals. But these were _people – children._

" _It doesn't matter now_ ," Finn had said in the Justice Building.

Didn't it? These were the lives of children, after all.

But their goal was to kill her, too. The tributes from One, Two, and Four – typically more vicious and skilled than the rest – always managed to kill with such ferocity. _They_ would not hesitate to kill a twelve-year-old tribute, and much less _her_ – an eighteen-year-old with modest skill _._ Rey swallowed hard on the sandwich and suddenly felt ill.

But Leia wouldn't have it. "Mitaka, eat. You too, Rey. We should be in the Capitol by this time tomorrow where you will go straight to your prep teams and stylists for the Tributes' Parade, and the next day you go right into training. You need your strength to stay focused."

"The tributes two years ago didn't eat at thing and the boy actually fainted during the first training session," Ben said, a little too nonchalantly.

The words made Mitaka visibly blanch.

Rey knew of whom Ben was speaking. The District 6 tributes for the 66th Games had been a twelve-year-old boy and a thirteen-year-old girl that looked much younger due to their poor diets. Apparently, they'd been too nervous to eat a whole lot of anything at the Capitol and died in the opening bloodbath. Not a good year for District 6, to say the least.

Leia ignored her son's comment and she checked her watch. "They should be replaying coverage of the reapings this evening so we can see who your competitors are. For now, we should strategize on general survival tips no matter the type of arena. You should also share what skills you have that might work to your advantage. If you want to do that part separate, that's fine as well."

"Where are the other victors?" Rey asked suddenly. Technically, all the victors of a district were required to travel to the Capitol with their tributes, but the train car was suspiciously free of Wylah and Drassus.

"Since their Games they've both been unstable and self-medicating with morphling. They typically keep to their own part of the train," Leia answered with a sigh. "So, I'm afraid you're stuck with us."

That didn't seem fair, Rey thought, leaving Leia and the somewhat-unstable Ben Solo to mentor all the tributes.

"They got tired of watching too many tributes die in the arena," Ben commented dryly. There was a harshness to his voice, a harshness that wasn't there the day he'd promised not to tell the Peacekeepers she'd been hunting the turkeys. Could this really be the same person?

"And you haven't?" Rey blurted, and then felt heat rise in her cheeks furiously. Why had she said that? _Why?_ The mentors liking her could mean the different between life and death. If she got on Ben Solo's bad side (which seemed to be his _only_ side), he could refuse to get her sponsors, not give her the correct advice.

Rey wanted nothing more than to rush out of the car and into her private room, which she seemed to recall Stacia telling her would be provided.

But Ben stood first, glaring at her furiously. "Who says I haven't?" he bit back, stormed over to the bar to pour himself a generous glass of what looked like whisky, and left the train car without another word.

* * *

_It could have gone worse_ , Leia thought pensively as she ate her roasted potatoes. That being said, the bar for first introductions had never been very high in the first place. On all her years of mentoring District 6 tributes, the confident, competitive ones that were determined to win were few and far in between. Most of the time, everyone was nervous to the point of not being able to keep down anything they ate.

Rey was a fighter; Leia knew it immediately. She had that look about her. And though Leia hadn't yet determined the right moment to bring up the subject, she recognized the gold necklace around her neck. It was a match of Paige Tico's, their female tribute from last year. Paige had been so determined to go home, to win for her sister – and she had almost done it. She had made it to the final two, between her and that brute Augustus Braun. Somehow, it made it harder to see them almost to the end of the Games as opposed to dying in the bloodbath, to have that hope they might actually win. And despite what Rey might think, they _were_ family – Leia would have welcomed her into her own home after Luke's disappearance, but she was so determined to wait at Luke's house for him to return, and eventually she stopped asking. But Ben was right, her name would get her sponsors, the same could not be said however, for Dopheld Mitaka.

Leia gazed at the boy across the table eating his dinner. _At least he_ was _eating._ The shock of the reaping had taken its toll on him, but after Ben stormed out from the train car she was able to coax some information out of him. Good agility, he had said, and a fast runner. Great advantages in the arena. Still, even sat at dinner he looked as if this were all a dream, like he would wake up any moment from this nightmare. That was not uncommon, especially from the more well-off tributes who thought they had been safe from the reaping. Leia just had to remind him to take everything seriously, to accept their current situation, and eat.

So far, she had achieved one out of three.

The food churned in Leia's stomach. She was never hungry on reaping days, but she forced the food down her mouth so her tributes would do the same.

Beside her, Stacia was continuing to drabble on about the comforts of the Capitol, as if they would be living there indefinitely instead of being thrown in an arena to die.

"Oh, and I heard the Gamemakers made upgrades to your Training Center!" Stacia chirped happily, taking a sip of posca – a drink of watered-down wine sweetened with honey Capitol residents couldn't get enough of. "Brand new equipment and weapons just for you!"

"To kill each other with," Rey muttered under her breath between a bite of the roasted chicken. Leia couldn't help but agree with her tone and be annoyed with Stacia. The Capitol escorts all meant well, of course, but to them the Hunger Games was a game, a spectacle for their enjoyment. Talking about the pleasures that awaited the tributes at the Capitol helped to detach themselves from the fact that their tributes would most likely die in the arena.

The dining car door slid open with a hiss, and Ben entered, changed and showered. _At least he didn't smell like alcohol_ , Leia thought as her son took a seat at the head of the table.

"Glad you could join us, Ben," Leia said with more cheer than she felt. "We were just discussing the new upgrades being done to the Training Center."

Ben let out a huff of indifference and began serving himself from the dishes in the middle of the table. Leia tried not to wince at her son. Living practically on his own in District 6 was hard for him, but the Games were immensely harder. She still remembered having to wake up her son form nightmares the first few weeks after his Games, his disaster of a Victory Tour, and the dread that washed over his face when she told him he would now have to mentor District 6's new tributes. Not just for one year, but every year. His uncle had been a great help for him, keeping his head straight, showing him how to get sponsors, consoling him when the tributes died, but his disappearance changed Ben. He retreated into himself, took on that dry and cynical demeanor, and distanced himself emotionally from the tributes – like they were pawns as opposed to real people. Leia could tell when her son had already given up on the tributes before the Games had begun.

When they had first boarded the train, Ben had brought up the family victor line for Rey. So not all hope was lost. If that made it easier to garner sponsors, all the better. Mitaka was another issue entirely, and Ben was showing signs of giving up on the boy. But Leia could not let that happen. Last year had been particularly hard with Paige being so close to winning, but this year both of their tributes were competitors. The odds could turn in their favour.

Stacia predictably lead the rest of the conversation for dinner, and they took their dessert of crème brûlée to their seats around the large view screen in the next train car to watch the recap of the reapings in the other districts.

Mitaka was shaking again, the silver spoon clinking against the glass dish, and Leia put a hand on his arm which seemed to calm him.

Precisely on time, the Capitol news changed to display Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, who would offer commentary on the reapings.

_"Welcome to your recap of the reapings for the Sixty-eighth Hunger Games!"_ Caesar chirped brightly. His hair and eyebrows were dyed a royal blue for the occasion, and he wore a matching blue suit with silver embroidery. Claudius, on the other hand, maintained a bulk of blond curls but wore pink eyeliner and a garish-looking suit with a massive cravat. " _As always, let's start with District One."_

Caesar and Claudius were relegated to the corner of the screen while the backdrop changed to the main square of District 1, which just looked like a slightly run-down version of the Capitol. Leia saw both Rey and Mitaka lean forward in their seats in anticipation.

Predictably, both tributes for District 1 and District 4 were eighteen-year-old volunteers. The boy from Four, Tallon, was massive and good-looking and would clearly be the front-runner to win. For District 2 there were no volunteers, but the tributes looked equally vicious as the rest of the Career pack, practically leaping onto the stage with joy when their names were called. The boy from District 3 was a thirteen-year-old wisp of a child who looked like he had never had a proper meal in his life, while the girl, seventeen-year-old Sejena had a bit more muscle on her bones. Leia had heard Rey audibly gasp when the District 3 boy came into view for the first time, but she knew Ben saw it as less competition. Leia tended to agree with Ben, as lousy as it made her feel.

Both of the District 5 tributes were on the younger side as well; the boy thirteen and the girl fifteen (again, less competition), and then came District 6.

" _Now the girl is part of the famous Skywalker-Solo victor line,_ " Claudius Templesmith noted. Caesar nodded enthusiastically.

" _The family has produced three victors: Leia Skywalker, Luke Skywalker, and Ben Solo,_ " Caesar added, his lips curving into an excited smile. " _I'm sure many of us are hoping to add Rey to that list_."

" _I know I am!_ " Claudius chimed brightly.

The footage replayed Mitaka's name being pulled, their awkward handshake, and then shifted to District 7.

The boy looked like he could be another contender – he was well-built and could probably handle an axe skillfully. The girl, on the other hand, was twelve. The boys for the next three districts were on the younger side, while the girls were a bit older. The girl from Eight in particular – sixteen-year-old Ali – looked well-fed enough to be a possible contender.

The reaping for District 11 brought another pair of opposite age. The boy, Jack, was seventeen and looked healthy and fit enough despite what Leia had heard about the strictness of the Mayor when it came to handing out a share of the food to the district residents. The girl was twelve.

Last, the screen changed to the main square of District 12, which looked depressing as ever. Both names pulled from the bowls belonged to young tributes. Even more depressing.

When the program ended, Leia turned to face their tributes to gauge their reactions. They both wore the same expression she'd seen on nearly every tribute after watching the rest of the reapings. Suddenly, the other tributes weren't theoretical. They were real, and they would have to kill them in order to survive. Leia ignored the fact that for one of them to win, the other would have to be killed as well. She always did, it only detracted from her mentoring abilities.

"I counted nine tributes fifteen or under," Ben Solo said after a long pause. His voice made both Rey and Mitaka jump slightly. "They should be fairly easy competition. Unless they get picked off first in the bloodbath."

Leia winced. She hated discussing the tributes in this way, but what else could she say? Her son was right. The younger ones typically didn't survive the opening bloodbath unless they ran away from the Cornucopia once the gong sounded. In rare cases, a young tribute might make the final five. Even more rare, they might win. Like Ben had.

"They're _children,_ " Rey blurted.

Ben narrowed his eyes at her. "It doesn't matter. They're your _competition_. They stand between you and survival. If you're too soft to face the fact that you may have to kill one or two of them, then I won't waste my time mentoring you."

"Ben, please," Leia hissed. Then she sighed deeply. "It's late. Rey, Mitaka, you two should get some sleep. We discuss strategy tomorrow over breakfast."

The tributes did as they were told, but Rey held Ben's steely gaze for a few seconds longer before exiting the car. Stacia excused herself to retire soon after, and Leia and Ben were left alone in the softly rumbling train car.

"Ben, you can't talk to our tributes like that," Leia said. "I don't know why I have to tell you every year."

"I can't help them if they can't accept the fact they might have to kill a twelve year old to survive," Ben replied sharply.

"There are other ways of winning. They could win by virtue of hiding until the rest of tributes kill each other. Like Wylah and Drassus did."

Ben shook his head. "Do you really think the Gamemakers are going to allow that? Both of their Games were considered dull affairs. No, they'll find one way or another to make sure the tributes are brought together to fight it out."

Leia sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. For all of Ben's cynicism and sharpness, he was incredibly smart about these things. True, Leia always tried to mentor with compassion and civility, but sometimes a little straightforwardness was needed, especially if the tributes were stuck in a fatalistic mindset.

"I suppose you're right," Leia conceded. "You have any invitations?"

Ben nodded. "I've been invited to Xandrus Lemington's tribute parade after-party, so all I can say is that the new stylists better make my job easy. After that it's the usuals: Cassia Stapleton's, party, Antonius Dradon's annual bash, and the thing at Heavensbee Manor. President Snow's sure to show up at that one."

"Like you said, Rey's part of the Skywalker victor line. People would be interested in that, despite whatever monstrosity of an outfit they might put on her," Leia said. "Mitaka is going to be harder. He's looked scared and shocked all day."

"Training should break him out of that. You said he's agile and a fast runner? That's better than nothing."

"Ben," her tone turned more serious as she lowered her voice. "We can't show favour to Rey over Mitaka. I know Rey's family, but it'll only make the boy less confident in his abilities and resent us."

"I know. But I might not be able to do anything for him until his individual assessment. These Capitol people know the Skywalker name. They know us."

For the first time that evening, Ben's features softened. He looked as if he was breaking through the wall he put between himself and the tributes. Leia had seen it last year when Paige Tico had shown great promise and had almost won the damn thing. Both Leia and Ben had been glued to the massive view screen in their apartments at the Training Center, and Ben had put the thing on mute because he couldn't stand Caesar and Claudius's commentary. They'd held hands in anticipation. But then a sword had been plunged her through the chest. The cannon went off a minute later, and Augustus Braun of District 1 had been declared the winner. They'd hardly spoken to each other on the train ride home and for months after that.

Now Leia worried that Ben was just repeating himself, that he would get his hopes up with Rey and then slide back into a depression if she should die in the arena. Leia didn't know if her son would survive another bout of it. He had become so emaciated, and was only now starting to regain the weight with the wealth of food provided by the Capitol. No doubt he would continue to gorge himself with all of the parties he'd been invited to.

"You're right," Leia replied finally, pouring herself a glass of port from one of the decanters. She rarely drank, except when in the Capitol. Social drinking allowed her to become friendly with the potential sponsors, and turning down anything you were offered was viewed as a deep insult. "Okay, play up the Skywalker victor line at your parties, get her some early sponsors. I'll work on Mitaka, try to make him more comfortable and open up about his abilities. We have two potential contenders this year, let's not let them down."

* * *

" _It doesn't matter now,_ " Ben had said about the other tributes. About _killing_ the other tributes. They were the same words Finn had told her when he had said goodbye in the Justice Building.

_It doesn't matter now._

The words racked around in Rey's brain as she lay on the bed in her private rooms on the train. They seemed intent on giving her a headache. Or perhaps that was the posca she drank on Stacia's insistence. Slowly so as to not upset her stomach from the rich Capitol food, she turned in the bed to face the window. She'd left the blinds open so the light of the moon would flood the room. It made the entire situation seem less dour. She could imagine herself back on the sofa in Luke's house in District 6, gazing up at that same moon before another hard day of work at the yards. Perhaps it was true – perhaps she would wake the next morning back at home, with Rose and Finn. She could go hunting and sell at the sweltering Station and eat dinner with her friends.

Unbidden, tears started to well in her eyes. It wasn't true, and it was time to stop deluding herself it was all a dream. That sort of thinking would get her killed in the arena.

_My name is Rey Skywalker._

_I was raised by Luke Skywalker._

_He disappeared five years ago._

_My name was called in the reaping._

_I'm the District 6 female tribute for the 68_ _th_ _Hunger Games._

_Reaping._

_Tribute._

_Hunger Games._

Rey had heard the last few words Ben Solo had uttered to his mother as she left the train car.

_I can't help them if they can't accept the fact they might have to kill a twelve year old to survive._

Did he really mean that? Of course he did, Rey realized. He'd been mentoring tributes for fifteen years, now. How many of _them_ couldn't accept that fact and were killed in the arena? Some put up a good fight, like Paige had, but most had made a run for it straight into the Cornucopia, or had hesitated a second too long when they had another tribute down and it cost them their life. _Stupid mistakes_. In the arena, hesitating killed you. But so did arrogance – the folly of many tributes from the wealthier districts.

Determination, on the other hand…

Tributes who showed determination to win for something other than themselves often received more sponsors and support. Those who had something to fight for.

And Rey did. She clutched Rose's necklace under the soft covers of the bed. She _most certainly_ had something to fight for.

Rose had already lose her sister. She couldn't let her lose anyone else.

In the dark, only lit by the moon, Rey steeled herself as she had boarding the train from District 6. The prospect of potentially killing one of the younger tributes revolted her, but was the cost if she didn't? Certain death. Kill or be killed.

She couldn't accept the prospect for herself.

But for Rose, she could.

For Rose, she _must_.


End file.
